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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518474">The Power of a Name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/undermounts/pseuds/undermounts'>undermounts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Lots of Angst, The Arcana pre-game</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2018-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2018-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:55:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,633</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23518474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/undermounts/pseuds/undermounts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Apprentice gave Julian a nickname he loved.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Reader, Julian/Apprentice, Julian/MC, julian devorak/mc</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Power of a Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic is based off a theory that the Apprentice actually gave Julian the nickname Jules because in the prologue, that's what they initially call him.<br/>This features my own apprentice, Cassandra, and is set before the events of the game.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julian had gone by many names. To the people of Nevivon, his family, and those closest to him, he was Ilya. While studying medicine under Nazali Satrinava in Praka and serving as a combat medic wherever Lucio waged war, he became Doctor Devorak. In Vesuvia, he became Julian.</p><p><em> She </em> had given him another.</p><p>Julian hunched over his desk, sifting through some medical records, chin propped in his hand as his eyes scanned the papers. It was a quiet day at the clinic, only a few people drifting in and out to pick up some herbal mixtures and salves he had prescribed them. His apprentice--he couldn’t believe he was <em> actually </em> mentoring an apprentice--was busy writing reports on a recent illness that had sprung up in Vesuvia, which meant he had nothing to do.</p><p>Julian was bored. And despite only being a few doors down, he missed his apprentice.</p><p>If he was being honest, the best part of having an apprentice wasn’t being able to delegate boring jobs like writing reports to someone else. No, it was simply the companionship, not having to be alone in the clinic on long days like these. Ever since his apprentice--ever since <em> Cassandra </em> had started working under him, he never felt lonely.</p><p>First and foremost, Cassandra was charming. Her quick wit and dazzling smiles turned every conversation into a delightful one, even if it was about things as disgusting as oozing warts or foot fungus. Miraculously, she was one of the select few who could actually keep up with and tolerate his incorrigible flirtatiousness and tall tales.  She always kept him on his toes, surprising him with sly smiles and stories of her own. While Julian’s tales were about overstated heroism and quick escapes, Cassandra’s were full of magic and faraway places. She was a well-learned magician with a bright mind, so it didn’t surprise him in the slightest that although Cassandra was his apprentice, he felt like<em> he </em> was the one who was learning from <em> her </em>.</p><p>But even more importantly than all of that, Cassandra was soft. She was empathetic, not only towards to their patients but to everyone around them. Cassandra had a remarkable sensitivity to the feelings of others and always knew how best to act, whether it be through gentle smiles, comforting touches, or even certain looks she sometimes gave with those expressive, golden eyes.</p><p><em> Those eyes. </em> Julian spent more time thinking about them than he wanted to admit, especially since she was still his apprentice ( <em> And nothing more </em>, he had to remind himself--they could never be anything more). But those eyes, they had a quality of eternal reassurance in them, as if they understood you the way you wished to be understood and believed in you the way you only wished you could believe in yourself.</p><p>Julian was certain he could fall in love with those eyes. <em> Hell, </em> he was certain he already <em> had </em>.</p><p>Sighing, he tossed his papers on the desk and combed his fingers through his hair. It was no use trying to read the records anymore, he was too restless. Julian had half a mind to go to her office, grab her hand, and lead her away from the clinic, just to get away for a little while. Maybe they could go to the Rowdy Raven. He could go for a Salty Bitters, disgusting as they were--</p><p>The door to his office creaked open. “Jules? Are you busy?”</p><p>Julian turned his chair, mood lightening at the sight of his apprentice in the doorway, her blue curls sticking out of the frayed bun that sat atop her head. “Ah, Cassandra. Come in, come in,” he ushered her forward with the wave of his hand, nose wrinkling slightly as he caught sight of the papers in her hands. “I was just reading through some medical records.”</p><p>“Well,” she gave him a pitying look as she held out her own handwritten report. “I hate to add to collection, but I finished my report about the recent illness that has gone around. It doesn’t seem fatal, but we should keep an eye on it.”</p><p>“Splendid,” Julian gave her a tired smile as he took the report, flipping briefly through it before peering up at her with a brow raised. “But perhaps we could continue to, ah, <em> keep an eye on it </em> when we come back?”</p><p>Cassandra tilted her head to her side, eyes trained on Julian as he stood and stretched, his joints audibly popping before he pulled on his coat. “When we come back? Where exactly are we coming back <em> from </em>?”</p><p>Julian grinned, his eyebrow impossibly arched at her as he looped his arm through hers and steered her towards the door. “Cassandra, my dear...Ever heard of the Rowdy Raven? Business is slow today, and I think we deserve a break from all this paperwork, don’t you? It’s been a while since we’ve gone into town together.”</p><p>“That’s because while you’re off being a neighborhood hero to the people of Vesuvia, I’m at the clinic doing all of <em> your </em> work.” Cassandra rolled her eyes as they stepped out of the clinic together, Julian pausing to flip their sign and lock the door behind them. “And the Rowdy Raven, huh? Sounds like your kind of place, Jules.”</p><p>“It’s got charm,” he chuckled, glancing sideways at her. “Did you just call me<em> Jules </em>? You did that earlier, too.”</p><p>Cassandra shrugged. “I did. <em> Everyone </em> calls you Julian, I figured I’d change it up a little. Unless you’d prefer it more if I call you <em> Doctor Devorak </em>,” she snickered, knowing full well how much she hated it when she called him that. It was too formal for them, he had told her. And it made him feel old.</p><p>“Please, show some respect for the title, will you? I<em> am </em> technically your boss, Cassandra.” Julian tried to sound stern and professional, but his smile gave him away.</p><p>“<em> Right </em>. Do bosses typically close down their clinics to take their apprentices to bars, Doctor?” she teased, laying her hand over his. </p><p>“I think you’ll find that my methods are a little unorthodox.”</p><p>“That’s one way to put it,” Cassandra smiled and Julian couldn’t help but smile back. She turned her gaze away, eyes roaming over the buildings of the South End.“ You know...We can toss the nickname if you don’t like it. It is a little...cozy.”</p><p>“No, no, no, that’s alright. I...quite like it,” Julian said quickly, his eagerness surprising himself. In truth, he quite liked the nickname, not because it was particularly fantastic, but because she had come up with it. “<em> Jules. </em>” He tested the name out, seeing how it fit on his tongue. “I think it’s growing on me. Jules, eh? Doctor Jules, even. Good one, Cassie.”</p><p>Cassandra stopped abruptly. “Cassie? <em> Oh </em> , we’re gonna have to have a talk about <em> that </em> one, Jules.”</p><p>“Sure thing,” he chuckled, peering out of the corner of his eye to see her glare as he added, “<em> Cassie. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Turns out, Julian really liked his new nickname.</p><p> </p><p>Jules. He loved hearing Cassandra’s voice shape the name she had given him, loved seeing his nickname written in her handwriting next to a perfectly drawn heart on the sweet letters she slipped in between her medical reports and left for him to read, and loved the way she whispered it into the crook of his neck when his fingertips trailed low over the bare skin of her back as they laid together in a tangle of limbs and heaving chests.</p><p>After the plague had descended on Vesuvia and lives were snuffed out everywhere Julian had turned, he realized that life was too short to be wasted and the time for skirting around his feeling in favor of inaction had passed. He was pleasantly surprised when she returned his grand gesture with one of her own.</p><p>“And I care about you, Cassie…” he had said softly one night as they stood in his office, his fingers just barely brushing the skin of her cheek as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to yet. “More than I have any right to... More than you could imagine.”</p><p>In return, Cassandra had kissed him. Kissed him until he was breathless, kissed him until he was dizzy, kissed him until his legs could no longer hold him up and they tumbled back onto the small cot in the corner of his office. She kissed him as she pushed the fabric of his shirt off of his shoulders and kissed him as she shed her uniform and he laid her down.</p><p>That night, he learned how he liked his name on her lips best. <em> Jules. </em></p><p>He loved it almost as much as he had come to love her.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p>When Cassandra died, she took his name with her.</p><p>It had been months since he had last heard “Jules.” He couldn’t bare to see that name written in anyone else’s handwriting or hear it in anyone else’s voice. Not that anyone besides him even knew of the nickname, but still. It hurt too much to even think of it coming from someone else...</p><p>As Count Lucio fell further and further to the plague, his mood soured considerably. The Count had gone from extremely annoying to down right insufferable.</p><p>For some reason, <em> someone </em> had even thought it a good idea to give the Count a bell to ring whenever he needed assistance. It rang nonstop.</p><p>
  <em> Riiing! </em>
</p><p>“Doctor! Magician! <em> Get in here </em>!” Somehow, Lucio’s damned bell and his nasally whine reached all the way from his quarters to even the library, probably due some sort of enchantment.</p><p>Julian groaned, knocking his head against his desk and rattling a pot of ink as Asra, the white-haired magician, swore behind him from where he lounged on a mountain of pillows.</p><p>“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Asra grumbled, languidly getting to his feet with a dark expression. “We <em> just </em> saw him.”</p><p>
  <em> Riiiiing! </em>
</p><p>If Julian ever found out who gave Lucio that bell, he would <em> wring </em> their neck.</p><p>“Do <em> not </em> keep me waiting! You know how I hate to wait!”</p><p>Asra sighed, his fingertips brushing over the back of Julian’s neck and sifting through his coppery curls. Julian involuntarily shuddered under Asra’s gentle touch. “Come on, Ilya,” he purred. “The sooner we go, the sooner we can get it over with.”</p><p>Sighing, Julian nodded against the wooden surface and dragged himself to his feet, following Asra to Lucio’s wing.</p><p>“Lucio.” Asra said stiffly, folding his arms as they came to stand at the foot of the plague-ridden Count’s overly plush bed. “You…” his eyes drifted to the bell on the bedside table. “...<em> rang </em>?”</p><p>“That I did, although I suppose I don’t really need<em> you </em>, magician,” Lucio drawled, waving a rolled up piece of paper dismissively. Julian noticed a stack of papers sitting in the Count’s lap. “Just Doctor Jules.”</p><p>Julian’s body went rigid. He couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the air in the room became smothering.</p><p>Asra glanced over at the doctor, concern flashing in his tyrian gaze as he laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Ilya?”</p><p>Julian shied away from Asra’s touch, swallowing a lump in his throat as he focused his eyes on the Count. His blood ran cold and he felt a strange sense of detachment from the world around him. “What...what did you call me?”</p><p>“Doctor Jules,” Lucio repeated, a cruel smile spreading on his lips as he began to unroll the paper in his hands. “What, you don’t like the nickname? I assumed you would appreciate the nostalgia. I found it while sifting through your notes and ah….<em> love letters.” </em> </p><p>Asra sent another pitying glance at Julian before he glared at Lucio, voice low and full of warning. “Lucio, don’t.”</p><p>The Count merely ignored him, clearing his throat as he held the letter in question out with a flourish, and began to read. “‘<em> Dear Jules’-- </em> there’s even a little heart there! Ha, splendid! Ahem, moving on.” Lucio’s eyes, silver surrounded by red scleras momentarily flicked up to Julian’s before he began again. “‘ <em> Dear Jules. I--’ </em>”</p><p>“Harassing our guests again, dearest husband?” </p><p>Before anyone could react, Countess Nadia strode into the room, gossamer fluttering behind her as she walked up to the head of the bed and plucked the letter from Lucio’s hands. With careful fingers, the Countess followed the crease Julian had worn into the paper over the months and folded the letter the way it had been before Lucio crinkled it. Ignoring Lucio’s irritated, “<em> Noddy” </em> she retrieved the rest of Julian’s papers from his bed and turned to the doctor.</p><p>“I believe it is time these are returned to you, Doctor Devorak.” Nadia held out the stack and Julian stiffly took it from her with a grateful nod. If the Countess had noticed the shaking of his fingers, she didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, she turned back to the Count, her eyes narrowing. Without looking, she spoke, “Asra, Julian. You two may leave. I have some...<em> words </em> to exchange with my dear husband.”</p><p>Julian stood still, frozen in place as he numbly stared at Lucio and the Count’s devilish smirk. <em> Doctor Jules. </em></p><p>His heart clenched.</p><p>“Come on, let’s go, Ilya,” Asra said softly, placing his hand on the small of Julian’s back to steer him out of the room. “Thank you, Nadi,” he whispered under his breath as they passed her and disappeared into the hall.</p><p>Julian allowed Asra to lead him, numb to all sensation. His legs were moving but nothing else felt like it was functioning. Was he even breathing? He couldn’t tell. He could hardly think at all.</p><p>Once they were back in the main hall, Asra brought them to a stop, looking up at Julian with worried eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that he had dissociated so spectacularly, Julian might have noticed that Asra was looking up at him with more care than the white-haired magician had ever had directed toward him before. “Ilya, are you alright? Lucio...he’s a cruel man.” </p><p>
  <em> Doctor Jules. </em>
</p><p>...He <em> hated </em>it.</p><p>Without answering Asra’s question, Julian turned on his heel and walked away, papers clutched tightly in his hand as he made his way into the palace gardens.</p><p>“Ilya!”</p><p>Julian ignored him, his footsteps quickening as he entered the hedge maze and his emotions began to catch up with him. He was angry. He was sad. He was <em> hurting </em>. </p><p>He didn’t even realize until his vision blurred and he swayed on his feet that he was crying.</p><p>Wiping hastily at his eyes, Julian sat down, his back to one wall of the maze. The branches tore through his clothing and scraped uncomfortably against his skin but he didn’t care. Lip quivering, he clenched his jaw and drew a box of matches from the pocket of his coat. Julian sifted through the stack of his reports until he found every letter she had written and set the rest of the side. </p><p>Julian held the letters up, the pages rustling between his trembling fingers. He closed his eyes and lit the match, letting the crackling fire warm his face as the pages burned.</p><p>Jules went up in smoke and flame.</p><p>Later, when he returned to the palace, he found Asra waiting for him.</p><p>“Ilya? Where did you go?” The magician fell in step with him, eyes widening as they caught on the angry red marks on his hands, places where raw flames had licked his skin. “Ilya, what have you <em> done </em>?”</p><p>“Burned the letters,” he said numbly, retreating into the library to sit at his desk. The bright light of the fire was still emblazoned on the backs of his lids, the memory of the flames turning Cassandra’s letters to ashes still clear in his mind.</p><p>Letters turned to ashes. Just like the rest of her.</p>
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